


Know I’m Lying

by humanities_angstiest



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Keith (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Sad Keith (Voltron), Social Anxiety, not a panic attack but warning if those bother you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 17:43:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanities_angstiest/pseuds/humanities_angstiest
Summary: Soon the whole world will know that I don’t do good in crowdsSo if I panic and I tell you, don’t want you aroundKnow I’m lying to you





	Know I’m Lying

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by vent feelings and the song You by WRENN.

The breaths stuttered in and out of him, sharp and singular and not deep enough to do his lungs any good. It hurt to the point that not breathing at all seemed the better option, at least until he could regulate it. Still, Keith gasped for air, clutching the cotton fabric over his chest uselessly with trembling hands. The space surrounding his body was too open, the air at his back unable to support or protect him. From what? Keith didn’t know. The world, probably, just to cover all his bases. He slid off the edge of his and Lance’s bed and onto the floor, his back against the firm mattress as he curled inward to make himself smaller. Keith cursed himself for spiraling into self-pity but continued to sob hideously and unapologetically in the empty apartment.

The panic — stupid, illogical panic — sharpened his thoughts, racing from reason A all the way to reason Z for why Lance would leave him. He already did leave, Keith’s mind helpfully reminded him. Walked right out their apartment door twenty-four minutes ago.

The gross sobbing abated as exhaustion set in, leaving Keith calm enough to reflect on why he was breaking down in the first place. He roughly wiped away the wetness under his eyes and inhaled as deeply as he could through his stuffy nose. Of course Lance wanted to get dinner with their friends. They hadn’t hung out all together in three weeks, too busy with exams and part-time jobs to relax for a meal together. Keith, however, did not. Not tonight. The thought of seeing their friends after time apart built an icky feeling in Keith’s chest, a dark sludgy glob of guck clogging his insides and pressing too hard against his heart. Hunk and Pidge were good friends, he had fun when he hung out with them. These reminders did nothing to filter out the guck.

Keith knew this mood of his was irrational but he indulged it. He didn’t want to leave the apartment. He didn’t want to be around people, didn’t want to monitor his facial expressions and focus on holding a conversation. There was an unfounded fear that too much time had passed and Hunk and Pidge weren’t his friends anymore. Dinner with them would be awkward as they worked to reconnect. It was easier to back out of plans.

Calming himself to reflect reopened the floodgates because at the end of memory lane was the memory of Lance and him fighting. Lance wouldn’t understand; he loved being around people. Not Keith. Some days, like today, the thought of going out in public and having thousands of eyes pass over him was too daunting. Keith knew they didn’t care, no one was closely scrutinizing him. It didn’t matter what he wore or if he tripped when he walked; anyone who saw him would forget in a minute. Logic didn’t stop his thoughts from convincing him he would be a spectacle, observed by everyone and picked apart under their eyes. It was his mind picking him apart, his voice saying the nasty things, but the faces were random, an endless crowd armed with the self-deprecating thoughts his mind supplied.

Lance didn’t understand why Keith was adamant about staying in the apartment and avoiding Hunk and Pidge because Keith didn’t explain. How could he explain that, at least for today until his thoughts could be contained and shoved back in a dark corner of his mind, he could not spend time with their friends and enjoy it? From Lance’s point of view, his boyfriend was being selfish, wanting them to cancel plans and stay home because Keith didn’t feel like going out. That was the nicer word Keith imagined Lance used for him. He already forgot the words Lance shouted at him before storming out, a small blessing his mind afforded him, but it didn’t let him forget how he shouted at Lance to leave. Keith’s words echoed in his head. His voice, angry and seemingly unsympathetic to Lance’s desire to see their friends, telling Lance he didn’t want him around. His eyes told a different story, begging Lance to ignore the words he was too proud to take back. It made no difference what his eyes said. Lance left to get dinner with Hunk and Pidge, leaving Keith to crumble when the finality of the door closing behind the blue-eyed male settled into the stifling quiet of the apartment.

Lance wasn’t coming back. Why would he? What did Keith offer him, except hurtful words? Keith was a mess. It only made sense for Lance to leave him. Lance was sunlight. Warmth emanated from him like a beacon, drawing people in. His warmth could be calming or energizing, but it always brought joy. If Lance was sunlight, Keith was moonlight. Some degree of chilly depending on the season, making a person not want to be in it for long. Lance leaving him was inevitable, because Keith would never leave Lance and Lance would never stay with someone like him.

Air once again evaded Keith’s lungs. His nails dug into his crossed arms and he rocked slightly, pitifully attempting to comfort himself. The sound of gasping sobs interspersed with hiccups filled his ears, covering the sound of the front door opening, bags dropping, and Lance frantically shouting his name as the Cuban ran towards the source of the noise.

Hands gripped Keith’s strongly, prying them off his arms but leaving behind crescent marks. Keith looked up from under his bangs to see his boyfriend’s worried frown. Tears were gathering in the corners of Lance’s eyes. He was a sympathetic crier, and that fact almost made Keith laugh but his dark thoughts weren’t done with him yet and the only thing he could think about was how Lance probably came to pack a bag to stay at Hunk’s until he found another place to live and was too good-hearted to leave when he found his ex crying on the floor of their room.

“Hey, Keith. Keith, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Shh, I’m right here. Shh.” Keith’s sobs grew louder at the familiar pet name. When Lance removed Keith’s vicious grip on himself he kept Keith’s hands grasped in his, but Keith moved them to Lance’s shoulders, sliding down to strong biceps and then pushing into the space between arms and torso to wrap around Lance’s back. Keith fell forward into Lance’s chest, partly from his own movement and partly from Lance pressing them tightly together.

“Babe, shh. Please don’t cry. Tell me what’s wrong. I hate seeing you cry.” Lance rocked them, making hushing sounds against Keith’s ear until the black-haired male’s tear ducts ran dry and his breathing calmed to an acceptable rate of inhales to exhales.

“Keith?”

Keith snuggled against Lance’s chest, his voice a rasping whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Lance sighed. “It was a stupid fight.” Lance rubbed his hand up and down Keith’s back before shifting away to stand up. At the look of returning panic on Keith’s face, Lance knelt down and cupped Keith’s cheek in his palm.

“Hey, we’re fine. I was just going to make sure the take-out is okay. I may have dropped it in the entryway when I heard you crying.” Lance shrugged a shoulder with a small smile.

Keith released a stuttering sigh, tilting his head into Lance’s palm and placing a gentle kiss against the warm skin. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

Lance frowned. “We already apologized. It was a dumb fight. I should have listened better when you said you didn’t feel like going out. I know you wouldn’t blow Hunk and Pidge off if everything was fine.” Lance’s eyes traveled up and down Keith’s curled form.

“I’m sorry.” Lance’s eyes widened at the crack in Keith’s voice and the silent tears slipping down his red-tinted cheeks.

“Stop apologizing. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Lance brushed his hand through Keith’s soft hair, focusing on keeping the tremble out of his hand. He had never seen Keith this distraught, and it scared him because he caused it.

When Lance angrily left the apartment half an hour ago, the cool night air soothed him on his walk. Even for him, being around people could get exhausting. But the night was quiet, gentle, distant enough to let him breathe and think while still encompassing him in its soft glow. He loved it.

Keith had been reserved all day, more so than usual, though it didn’t strike Lance as odd until now, after their fight. Keith was whining four days ago about stupid exams keeping friends apart and how he really needed to tell Pidge about this documentary on deep sea creatures he watched, so Lance should have realized that his refusal to meet Hunk and Pidge for dinner was not Keith’s standard reluctance to go out.

Lance texted Hunk to cancel and changed his course, stopping by the Korean restaurant Keith loved to order take-out. As he waited for their food, he wondered what Keith was doing back at the apartment. Lance imagined him grouchily sitting on the couch, flipping through channels and yelling to the wind that Lance was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad boyfriend. 

Would Keith even want him to come back? He did yell for Lance to leave. But at the same time… Lance sighed upon the realization that Keith was subconsciously testing him. Keith was too simple and good for tactics like that, but regardless, the gauntlet was thrown down and Keith waited to see who Lance would choose, his boyfriend or their friends. And Lance didn’t realize until too late. Keith would never ask Lance to pick him over Hunk and Pidge. All Keith wanted was for Lance to stay with him tonight because their friends would still be there tomorrow.

Glad that he figured this out now instead of in the middle of dinner with Hunk and Pidge, Lance added a small skip to his step as he walked home, ready to share take-out with his boyfriend and cuddle on the couch. He wasn’t ready to find his boyfriend a hyperventilating mess on their bedroom floor.

“I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m right here, Keith. We’ve fought worse than this. I’m still right here. You and me, ‘kay?”

Keith sniffled and wiped his tears away, shivering slightly from the coldness inside him. Lance removed his green jacket and draped it over Keith’s shoulders, helping Keith slide his arms in. Lance smiled warmly at his small boyfriend pulling the edges of the jacket closed with sleeve-covered hands.

Lance shuffled so he sat back against the bed and pulled the tear-stained male into his lap. Keith sunk down until his head rested on Lance’s shoulder.

“You and me, Keith. I’m not going anywhere.”


End file.
